


Moomin Star Wars Au

by thecityofthefireflies



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen, Moomin Star Wars Au, set during the Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 19:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18723853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecityofthefireflies/pseuds/thecityofthefireflies
Summary: in my endless creation of crossovers I ended up making a Moomin Star Wars AU.Snufkin is regularly pulled away to journey out of the safety of their peaceful system near the edge Wildspace, but Moominmamma is always ready to welcome him home.





	Moomin Star Wars Au

**Author's Note:**

> this AU was originally only going to be artwork but I ended up starting writing this while brushing my teeth so here 
> 
> [Artwork](https://tarantula-hawk-wasp.tumblr.com/post/184662817816/moomin-star-wars-au-i-smashed-the-most-recent-two)  
> The Moomins and the Snorks are Talz  
> Sniff is a Dug   
> Stinky is a mediocre Weequay pirate  
> Joxter is a Zygerrian and Mymble is a Zabrak so Snufkin is half-zabrak half-zygerrian and Little My is Half Zabrak half ??? and 100% feral.  
> Snufkin has his abandoned backstory like in canon bc he's force sensitive but was an initiate on a fieldtrip when Order 66 happened so he ended up young and alone in the Galaxy
> 
> i might write or draw more for this we'll see

Snufkin was young, younger than Moominmamma would have liked, the first time he approached her about leaving.  His hands wrung each other and his large ears twitched but his voice was confident. He had to leave- not forever he thought- but there was a pull on his consciousness and an itch in his mind and he knew he had to follow it.  

 

Moominmamma’s mind turned to Too-Ticky and her quiet ways and sporadic appearances and the silver hilt on her belt.  She thought she understood what was driving Snufkin. 

 

“Of course you must go, dear, but you must also come back.  We’ll be waiting with a warm cabin and a hot meal. Make sure you have the coordinates, this sector is very close to Wildspace.” 

 

“Don’t worry Moominmamma, I have them memorized.  I’ll come back before the standard year is up.” 

 

And so he left, hitching a ride into hyperspace in Stinky’s grimy pirate ship, laden with rations and what credits they could press on him and a newly-knit scarf draping his neck. 

 

He came back weeks later, clothes singed but with his eyes bright and dancing.  The dinner table was filled with his tales of the white-armored Empire and the advance of their cruelty and of the locals he had saved.  Moomin ooed and awed in all the appropriate places and Little My begged to come with him next time to stick it to the Empire. Snufkin has smiled fondly at her but accompany him she did not. 

 

He left again and again. For all his departures, he always returned, and  Moominmamma felt less worried that he would leave them and more merely about the state in which he would return.  His adventures varied but always along either a theme of fighting the Empire and helping people or exploring old abandoned jedi ruins.  Moominmamma could not help but feel proud of the compassionate boy, that despite his love of solitude, his abandonment and loneliness had made him more empathetic rather than less.  

 

He did not always return the same as when he left.  Aside from the spurts of growth in the early years and the newly-patched clothing, he also brought things back from his journeys.  The second year he had returned with a ship. A revamped and heavily repaired Jedi Starfighter he had been gifted as payment from a junkyard dealer that had taken a shine to him.  The Snork helped him repaint it a soft forest green which hid the weld-marks and Snufkin took to calling it The Tent. 

 

Sometimes he had run into Too-ticky or other members of what Moominmamma learned was a growing rebellion.  Once he returned with an astromech droid he had patted and fondly called Teety-woo. 

 

Perhaps the most surprising guests had been the time Snufkin’s ship had ripped out of Hyperspace into the system and drifted aimlessly, thrusters off, until the Moomin’s tractor beam had pulling it to dock. The family’s worries had barely had time to compound before the airlock opened and it was revealed that he simply hadn’t had the hands free to dock.  Both his arms and all of the floor space of were full of tiny younglings. They were toddling around and jabbering, grabbing at him and each other. 

 

They were orphans, parents killed and babies taken, starting their training in the dark side at the hands of the empire.  Snufkin could not stand for it and had liberated them. Finding an orphanage willing to take this many force sensitive children was impossible and the fact that the empire knew their faces and blood and records exacerbated this.  But the Moomin’s ship had room and Moominpappa’s skill with the nosegun to keep them safe. 

 

Rebellion members became more and more frequent, and a pleasant tall woman who called herself Fulcrum came to visit with him.  Snufkin had looked less than pleased at the prospect of tangling the two sides of his life, but was polite enough to let Moominmamma and Moominpappa hear her out.  

 

At first they had been worried that she would ask them to join in the actual fight and abandon their peaceful system.  But she had not. In fact she wanted them to keep their lifestyle, but would pay to employ their services as a place of safety and calm for those who truly needed it.  Moominmamma would have done it without credits, but it was good to know the larders would stay full. 

   
  



End file.
